


Nekojita (Cat's Tongue)

by RinAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Lee Jeno Loves Cats, Light-Hearted, M/M, Roommates, Soft Huang Ren Jun, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29821206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: Working Title: "Scritches and Stonks"Jeno is a freelance architect, trying to patch up his broken heart from a devastating break-up. Renjun is his new roommate, a no-nonsense investment broker who wears a suit every day, reads finance journals, and doesn't seem to know the first thing about friendship, let alone comforting someone through the darkest of times.(Renjun is also a catboy who purrs without meaning to, gets the zoomies at night, and eats tinsel. But that's not important to the story, I promise.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	Nekojita (Cat's Tongue)

Jeno loathed the idea of needing a roommate at twenty-five, but what could he do? Seoul was expensive, and doing freelance work was a mixed bag— sometimes the money flowed in, and sometimes the well went unexpectedly dry. Once, he could count on Donghyuck to pick up the slack when work was slow— together, they made a pretty good living, they’d even talked tentatively about a house and a family—

But, well, things changed, and he had to do what he had to do. Donghyuck wasn’t there, and from the barrage of new-couple-selcas on his Instagram (not that Jeno was looking), he wouldn’t be coming back. Jeno would adapt. A roommate it was. Luckily, the timing was perfect; less than a week after giving his landlord notice that he would be moving out, his sister sent him a classified ad:

_ “Twenty-five year old professional seeks like-minded adult to share two-bedroom apartment. Applicants must be quiet, tidy, and responsible. No smokers, no college students, no dogs.” _

That seemed to be right up Jeno’s alley. Hell, he didn’t even care if he liked the guy, just so long as he had his own space. Hopefully, too, it would be a little nicer than the one-bedroom flat he’d been sharing with Donghyuck, with its creaky stairs and drafty windows and dripping sink. With any luck, this would be a step in the  _ correct  _ direction.

_ “Hi! I’m responding to your roommate ad. My name’s Lee Jeno, and I’m a freelance architect. I’m looking for a place to move ASAP, and I’d like to think I’m a pretty good roommate. I shut myself in my room and play video games when I’m stressed, I like to cook, and I’m allergic to anything with fur, so no worries about me bringing an unwanted pet home, haha.” _

The response came quickly, and he was set to meet his new potential roommate the next day. The building was in a nice location on the edge of Gangnam, complete with a doorman, and the map posted in the lobby revealed the presence of a fitness center and private pool. It was almost daunting, for someone living paycheck to paycheck, but to his understanding, his rent would be staying nearly the same. He took the elevator up to the third floor, walking slowly down the hallway until he spotted the door he was looking for, and finally buzzed the doorbell.

“One moment!” A voice called from the other side of the door— male, but unexpectedly high and soft, a pleasant timbre.  _ I wonder what he could look like,  _ he wondered for the thousandth time that morning, but this time he didn’t have to wait long. The apartment door opened, brown eyes met green, and rude as it might have been, Jeno couldn’t keep himself from gasping.

“Lee Jeno. It’s nice to meet you. Come on inside.” He smiled softly, yet tensely. He was small, no more than 170 centimeters, with a pale, young face and a shock of soft, shaggy black hair. His eyes, notedly wide and round, were a mild jade green, and his mouth sat in something of a natural pout. Despite his size and his soft cherub face, there was an air of intimidation in the perfectly tailored suit that stretched across his thin shoulders, squared with impeccable posture.

His fuzzy gray ear flicked in annoyance, his tail swished, and Jeno suddenly blushed as he realized he was staring. It made him think back to the very first time that he’d seen a cat-person as a child, taking the bus with his mother, and she’d had to scold him for craning his neck to get a better look.  _ It’s not polite to look that way at people who are different. You wouldn’t like it if people stared at you that way, would you? _

“I’m— I’m sorry! It’s been a long morning, and I zone out like  _ crazy  _ when I’m tired,” Jeno lied in excuse, bowing his head in apology. “Your name is Renjun, right? I hope I’m saying that correctly. Are you from China?”

Renjun’s ear flicked again. “You’re not, but it’s okay. Yes, I was born in Jilin, which is quite close to Korea, so—”

“Your Korean is great!”

Renjun’s tail wrapped demurely around his own waist, as if to make sure it didn’t brush against Jeno on accident as he took off his shoes. It was long and thin, with short, soft-looking gray fur.  _ Russian Blue,  _ Jeno thought at once. He’d wanted a kitten growing up, and he could remember researching different breeds, begging his mother.  _ But I was too allergic. I wonder if he’s hypoallergenic. _

“Thank you, I suppose. I went to a Korean-language school, and I moved to Seoul at fourteen,” he answered dryly. It was enough to make Jeno feel stupid all over again. He’d really put his foot in his mouth at every opportunity, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if he never got a call back in the end. “Come on, I’ll show you around. The room that would be yours is my home office right now, but should you move in, I’ll clear it out for you.”

It was a nice apartment, right off the bat. The living room was spacious, with lovely hardwood floors and a grand fireplace beneath the wall-mounted flatscreen TV. Through one set of double-doors, he could see a lavish kitchen, with an island counter beneath the ceiling skylight. There were two bathrooms— Jeno would have his own, Renjun informed him, he didn’t like to share such personal spaces— and the bedroom in question was nearly twice the size of the one he’d been sharing with Donghyuck for the last three years, though it was currently occupied by a desk, computer, and several bookshelves.

“It really is a lovely place,” Jeno commented nervously, now going out of his way  _ not  _ to look at Renjun for more than a second at a time. He was so—  _ unreasonably  _ cute. And it  _ wasn’t  _ that Jeno had a thing for catboys, because he  _ didn’t,  _ it was just… “Uh, are you sure the rent you quoted me is correct? It seems a little low for an apartment like this.”

Renjun nodded once. “Your rent is only 20% of the total rent for the apartment,” he replied simply. “I make more than enough money to cover the rent here, so it’s really just a formality. As long as you can clean up after yourself and keep from interrupting my work. And as long as you’re typically here at night.” Jeno was sure he wasn’t imagining the way Renjun’s shoulders squared up even more as he spoke, but luckily, before he could ask, the smaller man went on cautiously, “Recently, I’ve had some disagreements with some neighbors that lives across the hall, a young couple. I asked them to break up a party a couple weekends ago because the noise was keeping me awake, and the woman was so drunk, she called me a mangy stray and threatened to make a coat out of my fur.”

“Holy  _ fuck.” _

“Yeah.” Renjun shivered, and his ears flattened down against his hair crossly. “I think she’s all bark and no bite, but her boyfriend looks enough like the dumb jock type that it makes me nervous. Gave me flashbacks to the assholes in high school that would pull on my tail. Granted, I understand if this makes you change your mind, but…”

Jeno shook his head at once. He wasn’t sure  _ why;  _ he wasn’t good with confrontation, and he wasn’t sure he’d be much help in this fight that wasn’t even his own, but it would have felt wrong to simply leave Renjun feeling anxious in his own home. And besides—  _ Is it wrong that I want to snuggle him? It’s not because he’s a cat— I’m not one of those creepy tail-chasers that will fuck anything with fur, it’s just— he’s so tiny, I want him to curl up and purr in my lap.  _ Renjun hardly seemed like the type, and that made Jeno want it all the more.

“Not at all. If you’ll have me, this is too good of a deal to pass up. I promise, I won’t be a bother,” he promised, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I work a lot. And I don’t have any friends, so—” Wow, that sounded worse than he’d intended, but it was true. All the “friends” he’d really interacted with these past few years had been Donghyuck’s more than his own. “So I’m sure it will almost be like living with nobody at all,” he finished, with some difficulty, managing a smile.

Renjun half-smiled, though Jeno could tell that it was masking exhaustion. “Great. I’ve had a couple other applicants, but they seemed a bit… troublesome.”

“Ah. Really?”

“Yeah. The girl yesterday said— something like— ‘You’re just like a little tiny person!’”

Jeno winced. Well— if he’d stared a bit too much, at least that wasn’t the  _ worst  _ thing in the world. “Yikes. Yeah, that’s bad. Sorry to hear that.”

Renjun shrugged. How used to such remarks was he? He  _ was  _ pretty tiny. “Anyway,” he went on in a soft drawl, “When would you like to move? I’d really rather have you sooner than later.”

Jeno broke into a grin, breathing a soft sigh of relief. He had to take it. There would never be another chance like this, that he was certain of. “I can move this weekend, if that works. I don’t have much to pack.”

“Excellent. I’ll make sure to clear my schedule on Saturday so I’m available to help you, though I doubt I’ll be any help with the heavy furniture…” Renjun’s nose twitched, an expression of clear distaste at the very thought. “I’m an investment broker. I don’t do much in the realm of exercise.”

Fair enough. Jeno was strong enough for everything except maybe his desk— he wondered if Jisung was available. He  _ was  _ one of Donghyuck’s friends, but their relationship was pretty good, as far as Jeno knew… 

As Renjun walked Jeno back to the door, the gradual sound of some sort of rumbling caught Jeno’s attention, and he froze. Was that the fridge? The heating system? Traffic outside? “Do you hear that?” he questioned, slipping his left shoe back onto his foot.

“Hear what?” Clearly, though, Renjun  _ did.  _ His pupils had narrowed to slits, ears flattened once more. Was he irritated? Or—  _ no,  _ Jeno recognized as the catboy crossed his arms in front of his chest,  _ he’s feeling self-conscious… because he’s purring. _

“Nothing… nothing. Guess it was in my mind.” Jeno managed another smile, reaching out to offer his hand for a shake. After a moment’s hesitation, Renjun took it, and despite his size, he  _ did  _ have a strong handshake. “Thank you for everything. I look forward to hearing from you.”

“Yes. Of course. Take care, now.”

Jeno took the bus home rather than a cab. A taxi might have been faster, but he was in no hurry, and anyway, he found himself quickly absorbed in his phone, so the ride seemed to fly by.

_ “Although meowing and yowling are voluntary actions aimed at getting a reaction, purring is more of an involuntary response by the cat to indicate pleasure or, occasionally, nervousness…” _

//

_ “Jeno-yah, cook for me. Make me kimchi jeon.” _

Damn it, Jeno would probably never be able to make this dish again without thinking about Donghyuck whining to be fed. It was the go-to dish when they were too broke for delivery and too tired for a proper meal— and there was something homey and comfortable about the camaraderie of working together to tear a kimchi pancake into pieces with chopsticks.

Did Renjun like kimchi jeon? In the few weeks that they’d lived together, he’d cooked a handful of times, and only rarely did Renjun eat his offerings. He didn’t like vegetables, apparently, or tofu, but he  _ had  _ eaten the grilled pork that Jeno had made the week before. They didn’t have any meat defrosted, but— maybe he’d add tuna, he decided, spotting a stack of cans in the pantry.

He chopped up the kimchi slowly, taking his time mixing up the batter. He  _ was  _ actually busy, he had a deadline coming up at the end of the week, but every time he sat at his desk to work on his sketches, his brain went fuzzy and his hand seemed to cramp. It made him feel like sort of a failure, considering that Renjun had come home from the office, took a quick shower, and then shut himself up in his room for a phone conference with a client. (Jeno still wasn’t sure what being an investment broker entailed, and he would have felt stupid asking.)

_ I have to work after dinner, though, or I’ll end up pulling an all-nighter tomorrow. _ Jeno sighed, popping the can of tuna open to drain it over the sink.

The sound of Renjun’s bedroom door opening took him by surprise— he’d been talking just a moment ago, Jeno had heard the quiet murmur of his voice through the wall, but then seconds later he was standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide and pupils completely dilated. His feathery gray tail lashed in a motion that read as irritation to Jeno, but his ears were perked straight up and alert.

He said nothing, his eyes trained on the can.

“Hi,” Jeno spoke up after a silent moment, managing a smile. “Are you hungry? I’m making kimchi jeon. It will be ready in about ten minutes, if you’re interested.”

Renjun blinked hard, as though waking from a daze. “Not particularly. I just heard a can open, and— it felt important.”

Renjun was so hard to read sometimes. He was cold, efficient, and incredibly put-together— seeing him in anything besides a suit and tie felt like a rarity— and Jeno felt like he was seeing a completely different Renjun standing in front of him, a kitten instead of a cat.

“Should I put in extra tuna?”

“Yes, please.” It was uncharacteristic, but Renjun smiled an expectedly  _ feline  _ smile, his pretty eyes glowing as he licked his lips. “Let me just go finish up this conference— I put the call on mute, told him my drunken neighbor was about to jump off the balcony.”

_ “God,  _ Renjun!”

It was like magic. One moment, Jeno was lamenting the cruel turns of his life, feeling sorry for himself, and the next—  _ I have a roommate, and he’s not bad. Maybe it’s not the ideal scenario, but it’s better than being alone. _

Renjun wasn’t much of a conversationalist, Jeno had found. He was always so busy, working even when he wasn’t at work, but in this case it was different. This time, he was kept busy tearing off pieces of the pancake and painstakingly blowing on them before he could put them in his mouth. He didn’t like his food too hot, he explained as he dipped a hunk of tuna in the salty, sour sauce— “Spicy is okay, but I can’t endure a high temperature. There’s this Japanese word,  _ nekojita,  _ cat’s tongue. Have you heard of it before? It’s an expression for a sensitivity to hot foods. A stereotype that holds true, I suppose.”

“Really? I didn’t know about that,” Jeno admitted honestly, feeling his ears heat up.  _ Maybe that’s why he’s always hesitant to try my cooking.  _ “I’ll make something cold the next time— before the winter hits. There aren’t many cold meat dishes, though…”

“You can make me sushi,” Renjun suggested at once, face serious and focused. “I like fatty tuna and eel the best.” He snatched the last piece of the pancake off the plate, and as he popped it into his mouth, a purr swelled gradually in his chest.

“Uh— okay.” Jeno smiled tentatively, eyeing the empty plate. Maybe his brain was just encouraging him to procrastinate more, but he was still feeling sort of hungry. “Should I fry up another one?”

“Would you?” Renjun’s tail swished up into an inquisitive question-mark shape, jade eyes sharp for a moment. “I have to go over a few spreadsheets for my boss— can you let me know when it’s ready? I’ll come eat with you again.”

“All right. Cool.” Jeno nodded to Renjun’s retreating back, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad when his roommate closed his bedroom door behind him. His purring was loud, but it didn’t quite carry through walls, and Jeno found the silence that followed felt quite lonely.

//

Being busy was nice, until it  _ wasn’t.  _ Jeno tried to be thankful about having work in the first place— it would be far worse if he didn’t, he told himself— but his latest clients were a couple who wanted him to design their dream house for them, and he knew from the first interaction that they were going to be high-maintenance and difficult to please.  _ Fair enough, this  _ is  _ your house I’m designing. But if you get to be difficult and indecisive, then I get to be pissy about having to start your floor plans from scratch for a third time. _ With a hefty sigh, he slammed his pencil down on the desk, with nothing but the general shape of the structure finished.

He needed a break. He really did. Wandering out to the quiet living room, he made himself at home on the couch and grabbed the remote. Renjun had a housekeeper that came once a week, keeping the shared areas of the apartment immaculate, and it sometimes made him feel strange about sullying them with his presence.

Donghyuck would have made fun of Renjun, he noted glumly. He would have called him a priss, he would have scoffed at the pretentious paintings in the entryway and the oversized fireplace, and Jeno probably would have joined him.  _ “We’re not high-class enough for a friend like him.”  _ Jeno could almost hear the soft needling, and it made him laugh quietly under his breath.

Fuck, he missed Donghyuck. He missed him a  _ lot,  _ even when he didn’t want to.

When the front door opened and Renjun stepped in, Jeno sat up and fixed his posture out of habit. Wearing a t-shirt and sweats, he often felt underdressed in his own home, and this day was no different: Renjun looked as perfect as his apartment, in a tailored black suit that probably cost as much as his rent. Everything was custom, he’d disclosed once when Jeno asked. He needed his jackets to fit correctly on his petite shoulders, and he had to have his pants altered for his tail.

“Hey!” Jeno greeted, flipping the channel from some reality TV trash about a girl who was addicted to eating dish sponges. “Welcome home. Did you have a good day at work?”

Renjun didn’t respond right away, but Jeno was pretty sure he knew the answer. There was a slump in his shoulders that typically wasn’t there, and the first thing he did as he entered the living room doorway was to loosen his navy blue tie. “I’m tired,” he announced at last, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I was feeling lazy, I made eggs for dinner.” Jeno shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ll make you some while you shower, if you want?”

“Nah. That’s fine. I’m not too hungry.” Renjun sighed, running his fingers through his flawlessly slicked-back hair, ears flattening under his palm.

“We could order take-out. I’d eat again,” Jeno suggested, trying not to sound too hopeful that Renjun might offer to pick up the tab. (Renjun  _ did  _ treat him a fair amount— always something light and sophisticated, as per his character.) He raised his arms and arched his back as he stretched, stifling a yawn, and he was about to suggest fried chicken—

Out of nowhere, before he could even open his mouth, Renjun was  _ off  _ at a dead sprint, crossing the living room in a matter of seconds and slamming his right hand against the wall. The burst of movement out of perfect stillness made Jeno’s heart leap into his throat, and the shock of adrenaline made his muscles tense, ready to leap to Renjun’s aid… but Renjun was motionless again a moment later, ears perked and muscles quivering as he stared down blankly at his hand.

“Where did it go?”

“What?” Jeno glanced around for anything out of place, but all his eyes detected was a flash of light as he moved his arm again.  _ Oh— my watch. _ He looked up to Renjun again, but the smaller man’s gaze was fixated on the reflection of the sunlight from Jeno’s watch as it shifted up the wall. When Jeno covered the face of his watch, the gleam disappeared, and Renjun blinked hard, as though dazed.

He tried not to, but he couldn’t help but laugh. At once, Renjun’s tail straightened and bristled.

_ “What?” _

“Nothing, sorry, just—” Jeno swallowed his laughter, suddenly feeling an oncoming wave of guilt. Renjun certainly wasn’t the type to laugh at himself, he already knew. “You’re unexpectedly so  _ cute  _ sometimes.”

Renjun’s eyes narrowed, brows furrowing and tiny hands tightening into self-conscious fists. “Shut up. I am not.”

“Okay. You’re not. Sorry.”

Renjun relaxed  _ a little—  _ the twitching at the tip of his tail gave away his residual excitement, though, and there was a certain reluctance to his face as he pulled his wallet from the inner pocket of his jacket and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Call and order something while I shower, will you? Put it on my card.”

“Got it!” Without thinking, Jeno raised his arm in a mock-salute, but he knew what was about to happen the moment Renjun’s pupils dilated. It only took him a half-second to rocket  _ back  _ across the room to the recliner, climbing up into the seat to catch the reflection of light dancing on the wall behind it. “Sorry… should I close the curtains?”

“No… no, I’m leaving.” The look in his eyes as he glanced back at Jeno was  _ pure _ malice, but the way he nibbled on his bottom lip, as though lost in thought, was undeniably adorable.

Jeno opted to bite his tongue and keep this to himself. Probably for the best.

//

The space between awake and asleep was an interesting one. Jeno knew, for example, that he’d passed out on the couch while watching TV, and that he desperately needed to go back to his bed so he could plug in his phone for the next day— and then he’d drift back into dreamland for a few minutes more. He actually dreamed, at one point, of getting up, washing his face, and retiring to his room, but then he blinked and found himself still tangled up in his throw blanket on the couch, wondering what the fuck had happened.

He heaved a big sigh, forcing himself to sit up and rubbing his sore eyes. How gross would it be to skip washing his face?

The sound of the front door opening and closing jarred him suddenly to full consciousness.  _ What the fuck—  _ He fumbled for his phone, digging it out from between the couch cushions and squinting at the painful brightness as the screen lit up. 2:34 AM, and as Renjun had mentioned before, the apartment wasn’t  _ perfectly  _ silent, he could hear the faint sound of the neighbors’ music through the wall.

_ The neighbors. Renjun said they still give him dirty looks when they pass him in the hallway— they don’t hate him enough to sneak in here and fuck around while we’re asleep, do they?  _ It was doubtful, but even thinking about it had him wide awake, and he reluctantly stood to turn on all the lights and look around.

Living room empty. Kitchen empty. Bathroom empty, and Renjun’s bedroom door closed like always.  _ Maybe I was dreaming. Shit.  _ He wasn’t thinking about Donghyuck so often these days. Had his brain just moved on to another source of paranoia? Sighing, he returned to the kitchen for a quick drink of cold water to set his head straight, and he double-checked that the door was locked before he turned to enter the bathroom. Yeah, he had no excuse not to wash his face now.

He’d scarcely slapped his moisturizer into his skin before he heard a soft scratching at the front door, soft but  _ insistent.  _ The sound sent chills up his spine, and he glanced desperately across the hall to Renjun’s room. Waking him up was probably a good idea, but he hated the idea of scaring him over nothing.

“Jeno, can you hear me? Let me in!”

_ Oh—  _ The soft timbre of Renjun’s voice from the hallway caught Jeno off-guard, but he rushed to peer through the peephole, and he smiled sheepishly as he unlocked the door and let Renjun back inside. It was a Renjun that Jeno had never seen before: wearing a head-to-toe baby pink sweatsuit with a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face. His breaths were coming hard, as though he’d taken the stairs instead of the elevator, and his cheeks were ruddy from either exertion or cold.

“What are you  _ doing?”  _ Jeno whispered as he stepped aside to let him in, locking the door behind him just in case. “You didn’t have a drug dealer waiting down in the parking lot or something, did you?”

“What? No. Don’t be stupid.”

“Secret girlfriend?” Jeno guessed next, feeling a smile tug at his lips despite his delirious exhaustion. “Or secret boyfriend?” (Jeno had made mentions of Donghyuck, so Renjun knew he was interested in men— he wasn’t really sure  _ what  _ Renjun’s deal was, though.)

“My secret girlfriend-slash-boyfriend isn’t a very good one if they’re only willing to come visit me after midnight.” Renjun huffed, though the lightest trace of mirth glimmered in his eyes. “Sometimes I get antsy at night, and I have to…  _ zoom.” _

“Zoom?”

“And I didn’t want to wake you up,” Renjun continued on indignantly, stepping past him and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “So I went outside. Sorry if I scared you.”

Jeno was full-on grinning now.  _ Why is he so adorable? It’s not fair.  _ “To zoom?” he teased lightly, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes. Shut up,” Renjun bit back, slipping off his sweatband. Jeno liked the way he usually styled himself, but he liked him  _ better  _ like this, beautifully disheveled. He glanced into the living room as he gulped his drink. “Are you going to sleep on the couch?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Jeno began, though the disappointed tilt of Renjun’s ears didn’t escape his notice. “Why? Do you want me to? Want to curl up in my lap after a long night of  _ zooming?” _

Renjun’s nostrils flared, and Jeno had to bite back a devious little giggle. On one hand, his worst fear was seriously offending his roommate, but on the other— his reactions were just too addicting. Renjun wasn’t always a  _ good _ sport, but his self-control seemed pretty remarkable, whether he was stuck in a three-hour-long phone meeting, watching the water drip from the kitchen faucet, or enduring the brunt of some late-night teasing.

“Yes,” he confirmed stoically, which was the complete  _ opposite _ of the answer Jeno had been expecting.  _ Well, then. _

“All right. Hold on, let me get comfortable again.” Jeno led the way back to the couch, laying down and stretching out to get comfortable before draping the fuzzy throw blanket back over himself. He was half-expecting Renjun to scoff, call him an idiot, and go back to his room— instead, the catboy’s tail swished with some emotion that Jeno couldn’t quite read yet, and he (clumsily) climbed into Jeno’s lap, his smaller body the  _ perfect  _ size to curl up on Jeno’s outstretched legs.

“Uhh…”

“Don’t pet me, or I’ll leave,” Renjun mumbled, at direct odds with his purring getting louder by the second. He almost seemed  _ reluctant,  _ even as he nuzzled his face against Jeno’s thigh.

“What if I have to get up and pee or something?”

“You can’t. Not allowed.”

Jeno snorted, and after a moment, he let his eyes slip closed. “You know, I didn’t expect you to  _ act  _ like a cat as much as you do.”

“Then you’re very simple-minded.” Renjun huffed, and as if reading his mind, he cut off Jeno’s next thought haughtily: “It’s not  _ cute.  _ It’s natural to my species. It’s no cuter than you sweating, or swearing over video games, so don’t even go there.”

“Fair enough, fair enough.” Jeno chuckled, though it  _ did  _ take every ounce of self-control he had to not run his fingers affectionately through Renjun’s messy hair. “Goodnight, Renjunnie.”

_ “Ugh.”  _ Renjun’s tail flicked in distaste, but there was no break in his purring, and Jeno figured that had to count for something.

//

For the first month or two of their roommate-ship, Jeno worked in his room and Renjun worked in his room, and that worked out pretty well. Jeno was constantly drawing, after all, and needed the wide, flat surface of his desk to complete his sketches; Renjun, on the other hand, was usually on the phone, Jeno could often hear him through his door.  _ “No, I said to sell, not hold! INF stocks are at an all-time high, are you an idiot?!” _

Sometimes, though, Jeno was finished with all the sketches he could do until he heard back from his clients, and his work became answering emails and sending his portfolio to potential employers. Sometimes, Renjun was finished screaming at interns on the phone, and his work became reading very wordy and boring financial journals and looking at graphs that might as well have been in Greek to Jeno. On days like those,  _ sometimes  _ they ended up on the couch side by side, with nothing but the empty middle cushion separating them. Sometimes, when Renjun was in a good mood, he’d turn and rest his back against Jeno’s shoulder, and they didn’t even have  _ that. _

_ He smells good.  _ It was funny, because Renjun didn’t smell like shampoo or cologne or anything that Jeno could really pinpoint, he just smelled clean and pleasant and  _ soft,  _ if that was possible. His hair  _ did  _ look soft, and his fur looked even softer, especially the little white tufts that poked out at the base of his ears.

“Hey.”

“Mm.”

“Do you have regular ears under your hair? It’s hard to tell with the way you style it.”

Renjun looked up from his folded newspaper, brows furrowed with concern, and pulled back slightly from Jeno’s shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“I dunno. I’ve just always wondered.” Jeno found himself blushing a bit with the stupidity of his own question, especially when Renjun blinked his wide eyes and answered with the tone that one might use to address a toddler,

“My ears are on top of my head, and for my species, they’re regular.”

“Never mind. Never mind, sorry.” Jeno fell silent again, willing himself to look back at his laptop screen— and after a few seconds, almost tentatively, Renjun fell back into his warm place against Jeno’s shoulder. Comfortable silence swept the room again, with nothing but the quiet drone of the news on the TV as background noise.

Renjun flipped to the next page in the newspaper, and his ear twitched against Jeno’s cheek, making his heart begin to race in an instant for no real reason. As if in response, Renjun’s ear twitched again, and  _ again.  _ Jeno coughed, and Renjun shifted, readjusting his head so as not to annoy him.

“Sorry, I didn’t piss you off, did I?” Jeno asked timidly, stealing another glance.  _ God, they look soft. _

“I mean, yes. But—” Renjun hummed quietly, giving his head a quick shake. “My hair keeps tickling them because it’s getting too long. It’s irritating. I need to go get it cut this weekend.”

“Ahh. Yeah, the same thing happens to me,” Jeno answered honestly, brushing his own hair behind his ear. He would probably need a trim, too.

“You can scratch them, if you want.” Renjun sighed, as if in resignation, and Jeno couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can scratch my own ears? Gee, thanks for the permission.”

“No,” Renjun mumbled impatiently, eyes trained stubbornly on the text in front of him.  _ “My  _ ears. You keep looking at them, so… if it will satisfy your curiosity, go ahead. Give me ear scritches.”

Jeno laughed out loud, which may not have been the right thing, judging by the look of cold contempt that he got back in response. But he reached over and did as requested anyway, because he wasn’t sure when or if he’d get such an opportunity again.

Renjun’s ear  _ was  _ soft, and it was warm to the touch, and unexpectedly delicate— exactly like a cat’s ear, he realized, which made him feel silly for being surprised. Renjun leaned into the touch just like a cat, too, and his lovely eyes slipped closed in a momentary expression of peace as a pleasured groan slipped past his lips.

And then, approximately four seconds later: “Okay. Stop. That’s enough.”

“Sorry. Did I do a bad job?”

Renjun tilted his head back to peer at Jeno, and then— one slow blink. Jeno had read something about cat behavior, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what a  _ slow blink  _ meant. “No, I just only wanted three scritches. That was enough,” he mumbled, and with a deliberacy that surprised Jeno, he turned himself to rub his cheek, gently but firmly, against the larger man’s shoulder. “Are you almost done working? I bought an octopus yesterday. I want you to make me takoyaki.”

Jeno knew what  _ that  _ meant. He wasn’t sure exactly when or how, but something had changed between the two of them in this short amount of time. And maybe it was short-sighted, or shallow, but— whatever had happened, it seemed like it was for the better.


End file.
